Monday, November 21, 2011

I have never been crazily INTO comics/folklore etc, per se. But I like Superman. Always have. And I definitely like him over Batman.

Batman is no superhero. He's probably super-human, to say the least. He's so made- with his Bat-mobile and gadgets and Robin and even the fucking butler. Also, Joker has soo much more personality than him that it makes one wonder if he could have existed without Joker at all.
And then there's Superman. Takes off his fucking shirt and tada! he's out to save the world.
AND he flies.
Also, that Reeve dude was pretty hot too.
Not really my type though. Or is he?

baaaah! I don't want to take my University exams that start in two days...
Supermaaaaaaannnnn! Take Meee Awaaayyy!!!!

Thursday, November 17, 2011

I am hardly maternal. I cringe at the mention of kids and my face starts looking like a fucking veg momo at the idea of ever having to be a mother. Or at least it did.

Not that I have had a divine conversion and I am now even a tiny bit comfortable with the idea of shooting out babies from pee-adjacent areas. And yes, my idea of being the ideal mother still is adopting a pretty looking girl child of 5years of age when I am 30 and then make her exactly like me. But now I think the girl child can wait because I have found my baby!

I am overprotective about most of my people, yes. But with her, it's different. It's maternal. I feel funny even writing it. But it's true. With her small mouth and big hair, she walked right into my heart and how.

I'd be responsible for all your 'firsts' too. Always!!!

So because adoption is a huge long tiring process and also perhaps because I am getting my period soon and am feeling particularly gay at the moment, I just want to tell you that I will make do with you, kid.

Forever. :)
I don't think I can let you out in the big bad world yet. I just can't. :( :(

And you should feel pretty cool knowing that you're probably the only kid in the history of humankind whose mother calls her up post midnight to say,

"I think we should grow a penis, go to Manali and then write our names on the snow with pee."

I want to end this post with 'those three words', but I think I say them too much to you anyway.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

You know these men. You know them rather well. So much so, that you can scribble about them with eyes half shut and brain half asleep. It's past midnight, but these men- they're raining! No Pun Intended.

There are those who look you straight in the eyes, pick up your checks, drop you back home, insist on hugging you goodbye longer than necessary and tell you stories about how they get stoned every single day. Of course, they're kids. And you sort of have to stop to wonder whether or not it is illegal for you to even talk to them.

Speaking of illegal and age gaps, there are also those who should be doing all the wondering about them breaking some state laws when they talk to you. But of course, that's not their style. They are too classy and too bloody charming for such pettiness. They are the ones with the salt and pepper hair that just add more character to their ever so twinkling grey eyes, that are filled with one story too many. If only the slight complication of their marital status didn't exist, life would be so much simpler for you. Anyway, what would life be without people finding your mind sexy and hence wanting to fuck it all the time?

Then there's that bitch called comfort. And the sons of bitches; The Comfort Men. You know the comfort wont last too long because there are those who are probably almost their 'marriageable age' (whatever the hell that is!!!) and hence, well, they'd be married. Soon.
However, the brothers of these happen to bump into you ever so regularly of late. You wonder if that's a sign or just one of your many bad judgements from too much alcohol.

Now that comfort is out of the window, you might want to settle for 'compatibility'. Oh yes, they are completely different phenomenons. Compatibility is more on the lines of 'the one'. The apparent 'the one' and you wont end up together because it doesn't matter how much love/lust/passion (and all other ingredients that go in the making of 'the one'?) both of you may have for each other. What matters is that they and your friend have had sexual and love history together for some 2345686543 years. And even though they have managed to stay successfully 'broken up' for close to a year now, it just doesn't matter. SO ya. She wins. Not that this is a competition.

But if you had to compete, would you compete with the girls that those are in love with for 'emotional support'? You know, those men who make you pretty happy when they're around but don't matter when they're not? They are the ones who imply 'dirty talk' all night, walk with you all through the chilly evening, buy you smokes and just when you think your hormones are going to get happy, they tell you about some 'girlfriend' (oh! they use air quotes!) in a foreign land. You, like a sane individual, argue that long distance relationships don't work because of lack of physical intimacy. They defend it by saying she's there for 'emotional support'. You then realise that they don't have friends, are probably sad and hence, every part of your soul tells you that the sanest move now would be to comfort them. By sticking your tongue down their throats.

Friday, November 4, 2011

I like this feeling of being inarticulate. Words don't communicate too much, anyway. They are just there... incomplete. You know?
I also like arms. Just being wrapped around them. It's prettier in my head than it is in words. You know? Since, words don't communicate much, anyway? In strong arms. It sometimes doesn't even matter to whom the arms belong to sometimes. Yea.. it's probably slutty that way. But wrapped cozy, the sighs almost hurt. They burn.
I like 'tomorrow' and the fact that I seemingly know absolutely nothing about it.
If I think about it... like, really think-
If I were a dream, I would probably be made of silk.
Again, it's prettier in my head than it is in words.
You know? Since, words don't communicate much, anyway?
If I were a dream, I would dare you to dream me, you little stranger.
We should stay close...
Forget the world.
Lie next to each other till the end of time.
Blame our bodies for everything, even though it's the breath that gets most action.
Let's be soulmates.
Only for this winter...